Priestly Waterhouse once said: "It ain't how you chew it; its what's in the biscuit"
Not that fond of biscuits myself, except on the occasional occasion when there is something inneresting to partially soak during a dunk, I never gave much credence to Waterhouse's analogy, well, at least, not until last weekend.
I was itching my craw, moping along down the street as I do, (looking up at the sky on occasion), when I faultered in my stride. Majestic interludal visions popped up machine gun like, (that was nothing new) but as life remedy idea 4098 dropped in, it started raining and I figured I was going to have to take a whole new tack on the mopoke principal.
I've been settled into the mopoke concept for a few years now....you know: "Mopoke"
A little meaningless utterance once in a while, out of the blue; it had been carrying me for quite a time.
"Mopoke"
Hell: "MOPOKE"
"OINK"
"Fuck off; shit heel welter"
Interject interlude prancing...(Note: all this shit usually to myself...in between silences and stuff.....or out loud in the car or even at the game)
But that rain...something
Something I ain't figured yet to be honest. But its there. Just changed things a stretch.
I'm still doing that whistling thing but now I sense, well...something...
- Details
- Cancelled Man